


Her Eyes

by SkatterJack



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkatterJack/pseuds/SkatterJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 6, "Ghost" fill in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Eyes

_He’s a good man_ , she said sadly, _He thinks I’m from Tulsa._ Framed in the dark window, her face turned and her elegant long neck, porcelain in the dim light, _and when we were in bed together at night, he’d whisper my name – Emily._ Her voice was almost a stranger’s voice – girlish and tentative .

She looked away, wouldn’t look at me, knew this would hurt me. Her blue eyes were dark, almost all pupil, haunted. She was too thin, and dressed in a tee and jeans instead of her expensive suits, she looked impossibly young.

And it cut. It wasn’t just the idea of her with someone else - that was bad enough. What really gutted me was the small, bleak voice of this Tulsa Emily coming from ADA Alexandra Cabot.   _It’s hard to be someone that you’re not._

_I can’t stop thinking like a prosecutor!_   Burying her face in her hands,  body swaying slender as a reed, my Alex was a fighter.

_Here_ , I said, and handed her a folder,   _you didn’t see this file._

And watched her transform.

She scooped the backgammon set off the coffee table and shoved it under the couch, then began to page through the collection of photos, reports, case files and documents we’d gathered on the cartel assassin who shot her two years ago. I settled into the chair across from her and watched her read.  All sense of fragility had disappeared - instead of sad self-protection, she hummed with energy. She tapped her pen against her lower lip, made notes. After a while, she stood up and began to pace, asking questions, testing strategies, completely in her element.

_Olivia, thank you._ She held my shoulders, studying my face, her eyes a sky blue that broke my heart. As she spoke, all I could think of was how unexpectedly full her lips were – her lower lip in particular with its ripe pout. At least, I could see that she was speaking, but all I could do was watch her lips. The idea of kissing her, of tasting that unexpectedly sweet fullness, was completely and utterly distracting.

I’m sorry, Alex, I should have said. I didn’t keep you safe. We had something and just as we were starting to figure that out, I lost you. And you, princess – you’ve been stashed away, isolated, hiding, helpless – trapped in a version of your own worst nightmare. But I could only watch her lips move, imagine kissing them.

And then she stopped talking and stepped toward me, searched my face with eyes the color of waves at dusk. She was charging forward, my Alex, like always, but now she wasn’t smirking or demanding, she was asking, and her eyes were a hungry blue that managed to be both brave and pleading.

And time stood still as I slowly fell, tumbling, toward her mouth – only to stop myself, close enough to feel her breath, to feel my lips move – the thin air between us charged and sparking – _Alex,_ I whispered, finally closing the gap between us, ignition, a thunderclap, an explosion of fireworks behind my eyes as I sucked gently on her lower lip, nipped it with my teeth and felt her groan.

She wrapped her arms around me and leaned her forehead against mine.  _I thought of you every day. Every day, I’d wake up, think about what time it would be in New York, worry about you on the job._ She whispered in my ear. _Since I first met you, I couldn’t say no to you._ I felt her smile against my cheek. _Well, actually, I said no a lot, but I could never make it stick, could I? I used to worry sometimes that my attraction to you was affecting my judgment._ She gave a short, bitter chuckle. _And then it finally occurred to me that was a really good thing. I was trying to be a better person because of you, for you, that’s what I finally realized._

I held that lovely face in my hands, and looked into sky eyes.  _Alexandra Cabot,_ I said, _in school, you befriended and protected Andrea Mackey, the scholarship girl who had no one._ I kissed her softly on one corner of her mouth, then the other.   _And even though Danielle Tinsley had been bullying you all year, you marched down to the head’s office to defend her from what you knew to be a false accusation by another student._ _You led campaigns, twisted arms and circulated so many worthy petitions people lost count. You were a force for good long before you met me._ I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, and kissed her softly below her ear, then up along her jaw. I could feel her start to tremble.

_How…how do you know all that?_

_Sweetheart, remember? I had to go to your funeral. Andrea and Danielle were there. There were a lot of stories like that, your kindness and fairness. Old sailing buddies, boyfriends, an old girlfriend from college –_

_Sam? Sam was at my funeral?_

_She was very discrete, but you certainly have a type._ She blushed. _Alex, Eliot used to call our fights ‘foreplay’ and he was right. The truth is that we fought because you loved winding me up  – those damn librarian glasses and that insufferable smirk, it was all flirting and it was all I could do to keep from bending you back over your desk and we both knew it. So don’t try to make me out as some kind of saint, because I was thinking some nasty thoughts –_

Her eyes got wide, then narrowed. _Like what?_

_Well, like your desk. And remember the Martin case? A whole week we had to avoid each other or start at it again – I’d be sitting there steaming at how stubborn, how unbearable, how arrogant you were, and then suddenly I’d be thinking about what your voice would sound like saying my name in bed - when you’d say it, and how. Maybe you’d whisper it, or scream it, maybe you’d just repeat it over and over…_

_Detective, I…_

But I was done talking. _Olivia,_ I insisted, and pushed her two steps back, pinning her against the wall and sliding my thigh between her legs. _Say it_ , I said, moving my lips just over hers, and she exploded, wrenching her hands free to grab my head, kissing me hard and turning us until she was the one pressing me against the wall, her eyes hot blue flames, _Olivia_ , she agreed, in a growl that was nearly dangerous, and kissed me again, deep, reaching for my breasts, pushing her thigh hard between my legs. And then we were spinning, twisting, reaching, and somewhere near the bed, as she was pulling at the waistband of my jeans, her hand found my gun on my hip. And we froze.

 This was wrong and stupid and dangerous - I was supposed to be protecting her, and I was about to be entirely distracted. Alex knew what I was thinking – she pulled the gun out of the holster, and put the grip in my hand, and closed her own hand over mine, so that she was holding my hand, holding my gun. She glared at me, _Olivia, no one, and I mean NO ONE besides Eliot knows where we are,_ she said forcefully. She brought my hand to her mouth, kissed the back, turned it over, kissed the thumb curled around the grip, then looked at me again – a blue flare of pure rage. _You’ll shoot anyone who tries to hurt me._

_I’ll kill them,_ I said, simply.  She shivered, closed her eyes and leaned close to my ear. _Good,_ she hissed, _Now unless you want to keep holding on to that gun while we do this,_ and she flashed a feral smile, then brought my hand up to her mouth again and gently kissed the inside of my wrist, _you should put it down somewhere safe but within reach. These, on the other hand,_ dangling my handcuffs, _I’ve dreamed about these…_ She sighed. _But not tonight..._

She looked so serious and thoughtful I had to laugh, but the look she shot me smoldered, pinned me in place, stripped me. I had fantasized about Alex bent over her desk or bound with silk, touched myself as I pictured teasing her, her pleading, her surrender. But the thought of being cuffed and helpless as she stalked toward me - snarling her intentions for my body with that hot blue yearning in her eyes - shocked me to my core. Desire so sharp it felt like pain, my stomach dropped, and I’m sure my face registered my awe and arousal. I felt myself swallow hard.

We came together fully, wrapping around each other, kissing deeply. I hummed as I slowly nibbled down her long neck, biting and suckling my way to her collarbones, and she groaned and threw her head back. I slipped my hands beneath her tee, and lifted it up and off – her bra was simple but expensive, and on her right shoulder, a shiny pink pucker the size of a bean – the fresh scar from the shooting.  I could feel her watching my face as I stroked it with my thumb, kissed it.

_I heard you, you know. You called me sweetheart, begged me to stay with you. I remember wondering why you sounded so scared._ I remembered the blood,  so much blood squeezing out between my fingers, her hair fanned to a perfect golden frame for her face, her eyes staring up, blank. Then all I could hear was a roar like a train bearing down, and after a second I realized it was me, that I was shaking apart, and Alex firmly pushed me back on the bed and fitted herself on top of me, rocking me like a wave.

  _Shhh, Liv.  Baby, shush._ She covered my face with kisses, the smell of her, the sweetness of her weight pressing me into the bed, her eyes alive, a soft summer blue, her blond hair a bright halo, and I felt myself start to breathe again. We just held each other, and the scent of her neck, of her breath, of her hair, the fit of her body against me brought me back. I turned my head and found her lips, the hot promise of her tongue, started a slow, delicious exploration of their fullness. Our legs entwined as our bodies began a different kind of rocking. _Alex, Alex_ , I heard myself say over and over, lost between dreams and what was finally real.

Alex pushed up, straddled my hips, and arched her back. She looked down at me from beneath lowered lashes, and smiled when I groaned at the sight. Her breasts were perfect - ivory, radiant, each tipped with a tight rose bud – the long sweep of her waist, my hands, brown and hard, unzipped her jeans roughly, pushed under and around the the tight denim to grab her ass and steer her hips, oh yes I was definitely going to peel Alexandra Cabot out of these jeans very soon. _O-liv-i-a,_ she said, deliberately spacing each syllable, her lips exaggerating the form of the sounds, the O like a kiss, Liv a flash of tongue then lower lip against perfect teeth, her breath cresting then sighing into the final Ah – she said my name like sex, and her eyes were narrow with a hungry gleam.

She leaned forward and slipped her hands under my shirt, stroking my belly, pushing my bra up and over my breasts, up and over my shoulders and head, pushing them up my arms and expertly wrapping them into a makeshift cuff for my wrists overhead. Her eyes had that same hot blue look that had undone me before, and she leaned slowly, deliberately down to tease my lips with hers, and brushed her nipples over and around mine.  Then she began a slow progress down my neck and shoulders, kissing, biting, her hair feathering my skin, cupping my breast in her hand and finally closing down on my nipple with her mouth, sucking it hard, then squeezing my whole breast in her hand, licking it, laying her cheek against me – _Olivia,_ she breathed, then bit my nipple lightly, flicking her tongue and finally capturing it all again. My nipple was painfully erect, and the sensations of her lips and teeth, of her hair playing over me, were making my breath ragged. But it was the sight of her face, Alex Cabot, alive and beautiful and real, her mouth greedy on my breast, her eyes half-closed, that made me gasp and arch my hips.  I had imagined making love to Alex, pictured fucking her, fantasized all kinds of positions or scenes, but it didn’t prepare me at all for how she actually looked as she touched me.

I needed her. I needed her in so many ways but now I had to take her, make her mine. I reached down and pulled her up against me, then quickly rolled her over onto her back. I lifted her hips and began to slowly tug her jeans down her legs, stroking the fold of her hips with my thumbs, palming the tops of her thighs,  pushing her jeans and panties down her legs, over her knees and slowly past her calves, and when the bundle of denim and silk ringed her ankles, I slid down to to the foot of the bed to pull them over her feet and off. Then I slowly, slowly stroked my hands back up the insides of her ankles and calves, past her knees, and continued up the inside of her thighs. At the vee of her long, devastating legs, her blond, tightly trimmed pubic hair was a little ginger, a little wavy, just as I had dreamed, and I lightly brushed my knuckes over it and she gasped, shivered a little, pushed up against me. The smell of her arousal – delicate, a blend of ripe peaches and woodsmoke – made me lightheaded, drunk, and I leaned my head toward her and kissed the vee, lips swollen and full, and slid my tongue between her labia to lick her, just to taste, but overcome, I buried my nose into the fold, inhaling, spiraling under.  

_Alex,_ I exhaled, and raised my head and stroked my hands up her sides, stopping to kiss the inner scoops of her hipbones, first one and then the other, and then to lick her flat belly, her ribs, to squeeze and kiss her breasts. She pushed her hands through my hair, pulled me up toward toward her for a rough, hungry kiss, then somehow her right hand was at my belt, pulling at my pants. _Off,_ she said, her tone of command charged and familiar, and I quickly kicked them off and away and rolled back to hold her in my arms. Her chest and neck were flushed, as were her cheeks,  and I could feel her runner’s lean, wiry muscles as she held me to her.

  _Alex,_ I said, and slid my right hand down her belly, pausing to stroke her pubic hair, then slipping my middle finger between her lips to find the silky wetness I knew was waiting. Her eyes closed and her hips jerked, chasing my hand. I pulled back, my palm pressing her clit, then I stroked two fingers inside her, feeling her melt, feeling her take it and ask for more. Inside her, I curled my fingers, pressing the sweet spot just within and above, and we both groaned together. I kissed her mouth, rough, and bit her lips as I slowly dragged my fingers out and over her swollen clit, swirling my fingertip around the delicate shaft, its sensitive hood.

_Alex,_ I rasped into her ear, holding her, my fingers stroking deep inside her, curling and circling, and her hips answered me. She had been digging her nails into my shoulder, but now her hand traveled down, squeezing my muscles, stroking my forearm, watching herself circle my wrist with her fingers and thumb as I pumped my hand into her, the triumph and terror in her eyes as she watched herself ask for more, knowing I was feeling each stroke to the core.  _Not yet,_ I ordered, and she bit her lip, struggling to hold off her climax.

I rolled over on top of her and let her feel my weight, then slid down and positioned my thighs between hers. I slid my hands beneath her legs and pushed them up, rolling her knees toward her shoulders and supporting them, lifting her pussy into the air, right at my mouth. _Alex,_ I said, _you’re so beautiful._ I leaned down and kissed her deeply, fully, as I had been kissing her lips, but ending with a soft, slow twirl with my tongue over her clit. Her labia were defined, and unexpectedly full, wanton and slick and I licked them as though they were ice cream melting. I separated her lips and exposed her clitoris to my kisses, sucked it into my mouth, circled it with my lips. I released her legs, and she rested them on my shoulders, hooked an ankle around my neck and reached her hand to tangle her fingers in my hair.

I explored her clit with my tongue, trying to discover its secrets. I pushed the hood back and exposed the hard pink button to my lips, sucking it into my mouth again, but this time I stroked her with my tongue, trying different things until she tightened her fingers in my hair and gasped, _there_ and _like that_ , deliberately, more urgently. Her hips rocked against me and I could hear her panting _Oh Liv_ , _Oh Liv, Liv, Liv…_  

I lifted my chin and curled and pumped my fingers inside her, stroking her clit with my thumb in exactly the right way. _Come for me, Alex, show me_ … And she did, bending back like a bow, her inner walls arched and then tight around my fingers, calling my name.

Picture a sparkling pale wine – luminous, fruity - pouring into an elegant crystal globe, and when it reaches the lip, there is a pause, a few moments where the wine is poised above the lip then… then…spilling over, falling, drenching, pouring and pouring, and as I kept up a strong, deep  stroking, what if she just keeps coming, what if the rolling waves never stopped, would she spill over the lip forever? _Yes,_ I promise, fierce and cocky, _yes Alex, oh yes._


End file.
